Kate Sherwood - Dark Horse 01 - Dark Horse (18 page)

D
AN
doesn’t make it over to the Archer house that afternoon. It’s not that he thinks it’s a bad idea, exactly, but when he looks at the amber liquid in his glass and realizes that finishing this drink will make him too drunk to impose himself on a grieving family… he finishes the drink. And then a couple more. Chris is being more restrained, and when Dan’s eyes start drifting shut, Chris puts him to bed. Dan tries to resist, tells Chris that it’s only mid-afternoon, reminds him that he wanted Dan to have Aunt Debbie’s mac and cheese for dinner, but Chris dumps him on the bed, and Dan decides to stay there. It’s comfy and warm.

When he wakes up, it’s to the sounds of the horses being brought in and fed. The sun is going down outside his window. He doesn’t feel hung over, so he thinks he must still be drunk, but he pours himself another glass just to make sure. He wonders briefly if this is becoming a problem, this alcohol thing, and then decides that for the next few days, it’s allowed. For the next few days, anything that keeps him from screaming is allowed.

He gets up and goes to the kitchen, finds the casserole dish in the fridge and reads the directions on the attached Post-it note:
Oven, 350 degrees, for an hour
. He can do that.

While he’s waiting, he paces around the apartment. Chris had said the funeral home was looking for photographs and mementos to place around the room during the viewing, so the two of them had gone through the boxes and found whatever Dan had. He didn’t have much, really. Justin’s parents had been the chroniclers of his career, and Dan had never been much for photographs. When Dan had moved out after hearing about the sale of the farm, he’d packed Justin’s things along with his own, so he and Chris had unpacked almost everything Dan owned when they were looking for Justin’s stuff. It’s still spread all over the living room, and Dan thinks about picking it up. Instead, he picks up his phone. And then sets it down again. He’s a strange mix of drunk and hyperactive, and it’s driving him a little crazy.

He wants to call Jeff, but he’s starting to feel really weird about the whole thing. He doesn’t want Jeff’s pity, and doesn’t want to make himself look pathetic. He’s also feeling a little guilty. He’s not really thinking of sex, not anymore, but he can’t deny that he’s attracted to the man, and it seems wrong to want to talk to him now, so soon after Justin’s death. And the drunken haze is making things alternately seem much simpler and much more complicated.

In one of the moments of seeming simple, he picks up the phone and finds the hotel number, hits send. He decides that it’s like fate. If Jeff is in the room, Dan will talk to him. If Jeff isn’t, he won’t leave a message.

Jeff picks up on the second ring, and Dan almost hangs up the phone. When Jeff says “Hello?” for the second time, Dan finally kicks himself into gear.

“Jeff, hey, sorry. It’s Dan.”
“Hey, kid, how are you?”

“I’m okay. A little drunk, again. But I think that’s good, really… or at least not bad.” Dan decides to go for it. “Do you like macaroni and cheese?”

Jeff doesn’t seem fazed by the topic shift. “I like homemade, but not from the box.”
Yeah, Dan could have predicted that. “I’ve got some in the oven. It’s supposed to be really good. Have you had dinner yet?”
“No, not yet.”
“It’s almost nine o’clock. Why haven’t you had dinner yet?” Dan feels like turnabout is fair play. If Jeff can inquire into his meal planning, Dan can inquire into his.
“I had a late lunch.” Dan can hear a smile come into Jeff’s voice. “And I was talking to Chris this afternoon, and he said you had Aunt Debbie’s macaroni and cheese, so I was holding out for an invitation.”
Dan thinks about getting irritated. Is he really that predictable? And why are Chris and Jeff talking all the time, and do they have some sort of plan to manipulate him? But it all seems too complicated, and Dan doesn’t have the energy to care.
Jeff notices the long pause. “Dan? Everything okay?”
“I was just wondering whether I could eat the whole thing before you got here. It’s a pretty big dish, but I think maybe I could do it.”
“I’m on my way. Should I bring anything?”
“If you want something to drink besides Wild Turkey or milk….”
“Okay. I’ll see you in twenty.”
Dan thinks about showering, and then kicks himself. Is he sprucing up for a date or something? He starts to pick up the crap in the living room, because that’s not sprucing up, it’s just good manners. But he gets a little sidetracked when he comes across a book on
Conditioning the Equine Athlete
. He and Justin had both started reading it and had squabbled over it on the few occasions that they had wanted to read at the same time. But then they’d started writing notes to each other in the margins, and it had turned into a game. It had begun quite innocently, with Dan highlighting something they should try at the barn, but by the end the comments had gotten pretty explicit, with each of them suggesting things that they should try in bed, or in the shower, or against the wall in the kitchen… Dan is glad that he stumbled across the book now, rather than remembering about it after he had lent it to someone. He has a quick flash of Tatiana reading the book and squirms. He doesn’t want to throw it out, but he needs to find somewhere better to store it. He thinks briefly about contributing it to the display at the funeral home.
There’s a knock on his door, ajar as usual, and Jeff is there. He sees Dan sitting on the floor surrounded by stuff, and walks over to stand above him. “So? Is there any left?”
Dan grins. “I may have exaggerated the threat level a little. It’s still not done cooking.”
Jeff cocks an eyebrow. “I was talking about the bourbon.” Dan starts to get up, but Jeff stops him. “Don’t worry, I can get it myself. Glasses are…?” He walks into the kitchen, and Dan directs him to the cupboard, and then to the bottle on the kitchen table. Jeff fills his glass and brings the bottle over to top up Dan’s.
Jeff sits on the couch Dan is leaning against, and Dan thinks that if he shifted over an inch, his shoulder would be touching Jeff’s leg. He doesn’t do it. Jeff looks at the book Dan’s holding, and then the piles of belongings all over the room. “Getting organized?” he asks mildly.
“We were looking for stuff. For the visitation. Have you been to one of those before?”
Jeff looks a little surprised. “Well, yeah. You haven’t?” Dan shakes his head, and Jeff frowns. “You’re in the receiving line tomorrow?”
“I guess. It sounds kinda weird. I just stand there and people file by and say nice things about Justin?”
Jeff grins and then scootches off the couch to sit next to Dan on the floor. Their shoulders are definitely touching now. Dan is careful to neither increase nor decrease the pressure, and as a result he sits almost completely still. “Pretty much. Usually visitors will know some people in line better than others, so they’ll save their best stuff for the people they know. Like, if I didn’t know you, I’d walk up and shake your hand and say, ‘I’m Jeff Stevens. I do some business with Justin’s parents. I’m sorry for your loss.’ And you’d say….” Jeff cocks an eyebrow expectantly.
“I’m Dan? Justin and I…. Jesus, do I have to give us a name? Like, boyfriends or life partners or some crap? Can I just say we used to fuck?”
“Yeah, you can. That’d be great. If I’m gonna go through this line and make awkward small talk with strangers, I at least want the entertainment of seeing people’s faces when you introduce yourself that way.” Jeff nudges Dan’s shoulder a little, disrupting his careful balance of pressure. He finds that he doesn’t mind.
Dan nudges back. “Yeah, okay. Then I’d have another damn funeral to deal with, after Molly keeled over with a heart attack.”
Dan can feel Jeff’s laugh through their joined shoulders. It feels good.
They drink quietly for a bit, and then Jeff says, “I’ve only been in the receiving line once. For my father’s funeral.”
“Was it bad?”
“No, not terrible. We weren’t close, so… you know, there’s always regrets, like some Springsteen song, but… it wasn’t a huge thing, really.”
Dan waits, but Jeff doesn’t say anymore. Dan says, “My father’s still alive, as far as I know. And I didn’t find out my mother was dead until eight months later, so… not a lot of formalities there.”
Jeff is still and then asks quietly, “How did that come about?”
Dan isn’t sure why he’s doing this. He likes Jeff, wants Jeff to know him, but he doesn’t know why he’s telling him the worst stuff first. He continues anyway. “My mother got cancer when I was a teenager. A sick wife, a gay son—it was a lot for my father to take, so he didn’t. He took off. So that’s why I don’t know about him.” Dan takes a deep drink. “My mom got better, got remarried—but the new guy wasn’t crazy about the gay son, either, so… I left. I came back through town a while later, but they’d moved. I asked a neighbor about it, and she told me about my mom. I guess the cancer came back.”
The timer on the oven dings, and Dan scrambles to his feet, incredibly glad for the interruption. “Do you want to eat here or at the table?”
Jeff looks up at him. “I’m really pretty comfortable here.”
“Do you want ketchup with it?”
“God, no. Not with homemade, you animal!”
Dan holds up his hands to ward off the criticism and goes to the kitchen. He uses a dishtowel to take the casserole out of the oven, and then a large spoon to dish it up onto two plates. Even with generous portions, there’s still a lot left over.
Dan grabs forks, and then goes back over to Jeff. Jeff takes both plates while Dan sits down, and then they both balance their plates on their knees while they eat.
After the first bite, Jeff grins. “God bless Aunt Debbie—this is good.”
“God bless Chris, he’s the one who stole it for us.”
Jeff waits until he’s finished chewing his second mouthful. “He seems like a good guy. You going to miss him, if you go out to California?”
Dan shrugs, then grins. “Why, you gonna cook up some imaginary job for him too? Lure him out there?”
Jeff shakes his head. “Like I have money for that. Don’t get me confused with Evan, kid. Besides, if you think your job is imaginary, you’re gonna have a big surprise on your first day of work.” Jeff looks at Dan out of the corner of his eye. “You are gonna come out, right? You’re going to take the job?”
Dan shrugs. “I don’t know. I mean… I’m definitely getting the hell out of here. I’ve been in Kentucky for five years already, and that’s way too long.” He doesn’t say it, but he knows Jeff hears the silent,
And there’s nothing keeping me here anymore
. Out loud, he adds, “And the job sounds good, and you all seem real nice.”
“So, why wouldn’t you come?”
“I don’t know.” Dan is a bit frustrated that this is the best answer he can give. “I mean, like I said, it was nice, and everybody was nice, but it’s just—I don’t really know how I’d fit in there. You know? Like, am I the barn help? Then what am I doing eating at the main house? Am I a friend? Then why am I taking money?” Dan looks at Jeff quizzically. “You never felt like that at all?”
Jeff shrugs. “It was a bit different for me—I mean, I was a friend of the family first, and I was never an employee, exactly. I was more like a contractor—I gave Tat lessons, but that was about three hours a week. It wasn’t my full-time job. And I never lived on the property. But, yeah, I see what you mean.” He takes his last bite of macaroni. “Would it be easier if it was just a job? If you didn’t hang out with the family, just did the work and went home?”
Dan thinks about this. “Yeah, maybe. I mean, I wouldn’t want to be rude about it—I like them both. It’s not like I don’t
want
to be friendly. It’s just—weird.” Jeff nods, and Dan continues. “Even with you, does it never bother you? I mean, I’m sure you’re doing fine, but Evan’s richer than God. He could buy and sell you with his pocket change, right? Doesn’t that bug you?”
Jeff looks at his hands. “I’d like to say ‘no’. I’d like to say he can’t buy me, because I’m not for sale. And that’s true, but… yeah, it bothers me a bit. Money’s not a limitation for him at all. For me, it is. It’s hard to draw a line sometimes, to figure out what it’s okay for him to spend money on and what it’s not.” Jeff looks thoughtful, like he’s trying to decide how much of this he wants to share. “Honestly, it’s a pretty big reason why we keep things casual, at least from my perspective. I care about him, but I can’t let my life get totally wrapped up in his, you know?”
“Yeah, I get it.” Dan shifts a little, wanting to look at Jeff. It moves their shoulders apart, but brings their thighs together. Dan is temporarily distracted by the new sensation, the new heat, but then manages to ask, “And from his perspective? Why’s
he
okay with it being casual?”
Jeff grins. “From his perspective? Best of both worlds—he gets me for security and someone to come home to, and he still gets to chase shiny things when he sees them.” Jeff smiles wolfishly, reminding Dan that he was one of the “things” Evan had chased.
Dan feels his body respond a little to the look, and his voice is a bit lower when he asks, “And you? You don’t like shiny things?”
Jeff’s eyes are intense, and his voice has lowered as well. “I’m not blind, Dan. Of course I like shiny things. And I like them even more when I find out that they’re not just pretty on the outside.” Jeff stares at Dan for a minute, and then pulls his legs away and climbs to his feet. He takes their plates off the coffee table and carries them to the kitchen. As he moves, he says, “But I try to be a bit more responsible about it. I try to make sure I’m not taking advantage of someone at a bad time, and I try to make sure that relationships aren’t going to get more complicated than they need to be just because of me.”
Jeff comes back halfway, stands by the door. “And I try to protect myself a little. If there’s someone I think I might care about, I try to make sure he’s going to be able to care back before I dive into anything. I’m too old to think a broken heart is romantic.”
Dan hadn’t thought about Jeff’s perspective on all this before. Truthfully, he hadn’t given that much
thought
to his own perspective. He’d just been operating on an instinctive level, his body responding to the stimulus of Jeff’s presence. Jeff is watching him, seeming to understand that Dan is digesting his words.
“Yeah, I can see that. I guess… I guess it’s good that you’ve got your head on straight, that you’re… being responsible.” Dan knows he should leave it there, for so many reasons. But somehow, he just can’t help himself. “Still… sometimes, don’t you just want to forget it all, just do what feels good at the time?” Dan brings his eyes up, lets them blaze with all the heat he’s been feeling in Jeff’s presence.
Jeff’s body actually sways a little toward him in response, but his feet stay firmly on the floor and his hand continues to grip the door frame, albeit a little more tightly. “Damn it, kid. You’ve got no idea,” he growls, and then he’s out the door and into the night.